


Moving On, Getting On

by Martini_McBride



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Bi-Curiosity, Drinking, Emotional Baggage, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Moving On, Multi, Queer Themes, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Smut, angsty at first but it calms down, bi Sebastian just makes sense to me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28891968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Martini_McBride/pseuds/Martini_McBride
Summary: Renee leaves her fast paced job as the head chef of an upscale restaurant in the city after news of her grandfather's passing. She's gone through most of her twenties feeling aimless and detached, focusing only on her career and clinging to a painful past. But the move to Pelican Town offers her a chance to reconnect with herself and find the sense of community and closeness that she craves. Along the way she finds she might even be capable of falling in love again...
Relationships: Harvey/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Sam/Sebastian (Stardew Valley), Sebastian/Female Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	1. Only the Lonely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing fiction and it is kinda difficult! I apologize if the tenses get wonky, imma try my best. I really love the idea of moving to a new town and kinda starting over so here ya go, hope y'all enjoy

The spring sun beamed mockingly as Renee stood fighting back sobs on the porch of her recently deceased grandfather’s cabin. Not sobs for his passing, though the realization that she had not yet properly mourned him sat sour in her stomach. She grieved for herself—a vague, selfish pain she couldn’t quite place. She’d just left behind a life she wasn’t content with anyway. So then why was she so raw now, watching her new neighbor bouncing up the hill to the west in her beat up red Chevy? She felt she hurt in the wrong way, over the wrong things. She’d failed to be happy, to take care of herself. Failed to avoid the crash and burnout everyone had warned her about. Failed to prove them wrong. Her career had been everything to her, it had cost her so much and now here she was retreating to this farm she didn’t deserve.

The past month had been a blur. It was a Sunday brunch service when she got the call. Papa was gone. She knew his health had been shit for awhile, and he was nearing eighty. No surprises. She had been preparing for this call for years, as if knowing the end was around the corner would make it any easier to accept. The finality of it was too much. She had never left a shift early—especially not brunch—until this one. It was knowing he had died out here alone, like some nameless animal, heart still heavy from the loss of his wife and abandonment from his family. It was the way he had passed, Renee couldn’t cope.

They hadn’t even been in touch in so long, for no reason in particular other than that she was busy, always too busy with the restaurant. It was the same reason she’d lost touch with friends, couldn’t sustain a dating life. She couldn’t remember the last time she had visited the farm. Maybe since grandma passed and he first ran off to Pelican Town? She thought maybe she’d been here a few times since, as a pre-teen. She was too self absorbed at that age to remember though. She realized that maybe she'd never outgrown that phase, and maybe that had something to with ending up back here. Her siblings had no interest in the farm, they had no reason to run away. They all had careers, spouses, kids, people who relied on them.

As Robin’s truck disappeared toward the mountains Renee forced a deep breathe into her lungs. She shifted her focus out onto the expanse of the farm, the land she was expected to live on, tend, to make profitable somehow. She looked for anything familiar, hoping to feel comforted at least by some old forgotten memory from her childhood. But instead it reminded her of all of the farmland she came to recognize on her long drives home from college. Her seven hour commutes to see her family, but mainly to see Garrett. She inhaled choppily at the thought of him, lungs threatening to collapse into sobs again. She was further from him than she’d ever been and he likely thought nothing of it. It had been ten fucking years anyway. A decade. _Get a fucking grip._

She tried to concentrate on something less existential. She focused her tear-blurred eyes back on the farm, searching for clues about where to even begin, only to be smacked with the reality that she didn’t know a damn thing about farming. She could barely keep houseplants alive in her apartment in the city. She heard her therapist’s voice in her head trying to calm her, telling her to just try to find a starting point and go from there. Start small. Baby steps.

She squinted out toward the gnarled fields looking for her companion that had bolted as soon as they’d arrived. She spotted Frito’s lanky black frame chasing a squirrel up a maple tree at the edge of the property. “Come on big baby!” Her voice sounded unfamiliar out here, distant. He snapped his attention to Renee and cocked his head to the side momentarily before clumsily bounding toward the cabin, tongue hanging out. “At least someone’s enjoying themselves…” She couldn’t help but smile at that dopey bliss in Frito’s face, running as fast as he could just because he was able.

Renee had adopted the scrawny Labrador—the runt of the litter—somewhat on a whim. Her boyfriend at the time was in a band, toured a lot, and she was fucking lonely. She really loved dogs, but growing up her mom had only ever allowed them to have small breeds. Yorkies, Papillons, the yappy temperamental ones. They were decidedly _her mom’s_ dogs. Frito felt like a real friend to Renee, helped her through some dark shit. He had been the one consistently good thing in her life for the last few years. But she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for keeping a dog his size, with his energy, cooped up in a flat in the city. Their near-daily walks were great, but never quite enough. He would be so happy here, and that was the silver lining Renee desperately needed right now.

She led Frito into the old ghostly cabin, bracing herself. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but the interior was striking. She anticipated something dark, dilapidated. But it was beautiful. It was really just one big room aside from the bathroom, “open concept” they would call it in the city. Had every shade of seemingly clashing wood but it worked. It had that effortless warmth and lived-in quality that Pinterest moms obsess over but never successfully imitate.

The tiny kitchen caught her eye first, just a small oven and range next to a stained sink with a few feet of counter space on either side. There were a couple of mostly bare shelves flanking a relatively huge window above the sink. The view was breathtaking, she could see several miles north toward the mountains where she remembered seeing Robin driving earlier. _“Damn.”_ To the left of the window hung several beat up pans and copper pots dangling from old hooks nailed to a piece of hardwood. A scrawny devil’s ivy hung from a woven planter in the window and Renee thought that maybe this was her chance to cure her black thumb. If she could care for this one plant it could be symbolic somehow.

A couple of well-seasoned cast iron skillets and a severely dented aluminum percolator sat on the gas stove. She remembered her Papa drinking coffee all day long. She never liked the smell as a kid but longed for the familiarity now. She searched the shelves and cabinets and found an old coffee can, nearly empty and probably beyond stale but better than nothing.

Frito had already acquainted himself with the bed in the far right corner of the cabin. He was never good with boundaries. She met him there, running her hands over the worn and now wrinkled quilt, testing to see if it was as soft as it looked. And it was. The whole cabin had a familiar scent. She wasn’t sure if it was something from nature or something specific to her Papa. It was a damp smell, like maybe ferns and dirt and rained on ash. But there was something distinctly human as well.

The focal point of the cabin was the fireplace to the right of the kitchen. Even unlit it radiated warmth from its worn red brick. A handful of tiny framed pictures hung over the hearth, so small Renee had to strain to make out the faces. She recognized her grandparents wedding photo, black and white and badly faded but beautiful nonetheless. It was fascinating how photos from that time made everything seem idyllic. Things weren’t so realistic—the edges were soft and forgiving. Technology had a way of making life seem crass now, a bit too real or a bit too fake. There was a photo of her mother, probably about 5 years old. She was standing out in a suburban yard in a ruffled swimsuit and big sunhat, arms crossed over her chest pouting. It reminded her of a picture of herself from around that age, sulking on the couch not wanting to go to church for whatever reason a five year old has for anything.

A few of the other photos were unfamiliar, they looked noticeably more aged. She assumed they were her great-grandparents or some distant relatives. She searched their faces for familiar features, wondering. She recognized the only color photo above the fireplace. It was of herself and her three siblings, from way back. She was probably 10, grinning in front of the plum tree in the backyard next to her scowling brother and two older sisters. None of it felt quite real, the photos, the memories, the ancestry. She knew this was her family but she couldn't feel it, it was disjointed.

The deep smell of coffee and sputtering of the percolator beckoned her back to the kitchen. It was all so picture perfect—the late-afternoon sun hitting the dusty countertops, Frito sleeping peacefully on the faded quilt of the four poster bed. That familiar urge crept in, the urge to document these moments, to share them for whatever reason. But she'd made a promise to herself when she decided to move out here, to abandon the past, the hollowness of social media. The painful memories and people that dwell there. She resolved to be content with keeping the simple beauty of this moment all to herself. When that failed she turned to another coping mechanism.

Unsure of the liquor situation in this tiny town, Renee had the foresight to pack herself a bottle of bourbon for this particular moment. She couldn’t remember the last time she had truly nothing to do and was terrified to be alone with her own thoughts, especially in this uncommon circumstance, in this potentially haunted cabin. She poured a generous glug of whiskey into her half-finished coffee and continued to survey the cabin.

She found the bathroom tucked away in the corner near the bed, the wooden door blending in with the rest of the cabin. It was tiny and utilitarian but the window above the miniature bathtub kept it from feeling claustrophobic. Renee glanced at herself in the spotted antique mirror, trying not to focus on how tired she looked. She resisted the urge to take a moody selfie, but wanted to remember this moment. What she looked like, how she felt, who she was. She wondered how she'd be received by the locals, wondered if her tattooed arms and city look would alienate her from her rural neighbors. But she remembered how kind Robin had been and how fucking cool she seemed so maybe the others would be too. It occurred to her how abysmal the dating scene would likely be in such a small town, but that was not a priority anyway. For now she just needed to remain sane. 

She was thrilled when she found her Papa’s old record player tucked under a table in the living room, relieved when she found that it still worked. Hearing Roy Orbison fill the silence of that old cabin was a welcome comfort. The hours went by, sifting through records, pouring more whiskey into the mushroom-studded coffee mug as she slowly unpacked. She instinctively checked her phone— _just to check the time_ —as if that mattered much right now. No notifications. She’d denounced social media a few days before the move, hoping in its absence she could feel she was actually living. She had envisioned herself connecting with nature, forming meaningful relationships with her neighbors and her world, being too busy residing in The Real World to concern herself with the vapidity of the endless scroll. But she still found herself waiting for something from that great virtual beyond. She’d expected at least a concerned text from a friend. Surely running away to a nowhere town and disappearing from her virtual life was enough of a red flag. _Surely they noticed…_

The deeper she delved into the bottle the further she let her mind wander to shadowy depressive places. The broad kitchen window that earlier offered a glimmer of hope, a view of the mountains, a humbling perspective, now lent a sense of vacant dread. The darkness and the silence here were expansive, menacing.

Frito remained unaffected by Renee’s booze-fueled melancholy. He squeezed his gangly body onto the couch where she was now dramatically sprawled. She tried to imagine how intensely lonely she would feel if he weren’t there radiating warmth. “You might be my only friend now buddy…” She knew of course that wasn’t true, but still couldn’t help but wonder how many friendships, if any, would survive the move.

Maybe she’d just been a shitty friend. Maybe they had finally written her off completely. She was always working, always busy. Nights, weekends, holidays. And she had fuck all to show for it. No friends, no plan, barely any money. The truth is they likely had no idea how fucked she felt, how lost. Renee was fierce, she had to be to do her job, to command respect. Even those closest to her couldn’t see past the facade. Her therapist would probably tell her to make a list of possible reasons why they hadn’t messaged, an exercise in perspective. It helped, but only a little. She found a dark comfort in knowing how awful they would feel if they had any idea how torn up and alone she felt, as if she could weaponize her pain to hurt the people who should’ve consoled her. They were vile thoughts but tonight was not the time for healthy coping mechanisms. Tonight was whiskey on an empty stomach in her dead grandpa’s home.

It finally got so cold she could see her breath in plumes so she peeled herself off of the couch and ventured out, remembering seeing neat stacks of seasoned firewood on the front porch. As she stumbled outside the brisk air and the night sky caught her off guard. The city skyline was a sight she never took for granted, but this was profoundly different. There was nothing but night—only slightly washed by the soft light from the cabin, but still almost entirely undimmed. The dappled blackness felt like nothing and everything all at once, like every star and planet in the universe was right here but she was the only one seeing it. Something eased up inside of her. Maybe it was sobering, or humbling, or both. _An exercise in perspective_. The distance she had felt seemed inconsequential in that moment. She was swaddled by the vastness of the night, comforted by the insignificance of her troubles.

Her thoughts drifted to her Papa, envisioning him standing in this exact spot under this same sky fifteen years ago. He came to Pelican Town to escape too, ran here as fast as he could after Renee’s grandmother passed. The love of his life was taken from him and instead of giving up he started over. She wanted so badly to talk to him, to ask him about his first night on the farm, how he managed and if he was ever really okay living here. _If he could cope then surely I can too?_

Renee could feel herself unraveling, the grief she had pushed down deep was rising to the surface, threatening to overflow. And so she let it. She let her heart break for her Papa, for her friendships that would never be the same, for her love for Garrett that would never again be reciprocated but wouldn’t seem to go the fuck away. She let the pain and the loss bowl her over in loud bitter sobs right there on the porch of the cabin until she felt numb. Eventually the dread in the pit of her stomach eased, like a slowly emptying bathtub. The darkness circled the drain and flowed elsewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I've been waiting to post this until I had a pretty clear vision of where I wanted to go with it so its been a long time coming and I can't wait to add more chapters!
> 
> I wanna include a few songs with each chapter that I feel capture ~the vibe~ so...
> 
> Only the Lonely--Roy Orbison  
> Country Mile--Camera Obscura  
> Moving On, Getting On--Christelle Bofale


	2. Home and Somewhere Else

Renee awoke after her first night on the farm to a throbbing head and a pounding at the front door. _What in the actual fuck?_ Frito had lunged out of bed and was howling with deceptive ferocity.

She groaned “Pleeeease calm down dude…”

Her memory from the night before was murky. She recalled listening to records, dancing with Frito, sobbing in the fetal position on the porch— _classic_ —but everything after that was fuzzy. The cabin was frigid and by the look of the logs and kindling scattered around the hearth and the absence of coals she assumed she never quite got that fire started.

She thought she’d maybe dreamt or imagined the visitor at the door until she heard another set of knocks. “Be there in a sec!” she croaked out, realizing she hadn’t really spoken words for the better part of 24 hours.

She didn’t have time to be concerned about her appearance but scrambled around the cabin searching at the very least for pants. She could feel her eyes were still swollen from the ugly crying the night before but hoped she could explain it away somehow. Seasonal allergies? A bee sting? She pulled her long dark hair into a knot and opened the door.

“That’s quite the guard dog you’ve got there!” the stranger cheerily joked as Frito excitedly greeted the man.

“Yea, he’s clearly all bark.” she managed a forced laugh, wishing Frito could have at least pretended to protect her.

Between the harsh morning light and her puffy eyes she had to squint to make out his features but she guessed he was probably in his forties. He was pretty tall, at least six foot, and wore an unbuttoned rust-orange flannel over a baby blue t-shirt with pewter corduroys. His hair was amber and parted down the middle, kind of long and flowing, swept back like he probably ran his hands through it often. He had low-key sideburns and plain rimless glasses, the whole look was kind of hot in a 70’s dad kind of way. The realization made her remember how fucking disastrous she must have looked to him.

“I’m Pierre!” he reached to shake her hand. _Wedding ring…_ “I run the general store downtown.” He nodded eastward and Renee assumed that must be where “town” was. She really couldn’t remember much at all about the valley and she was beginning to get anxious to find out just how secluded from civilization it might be.

“Oh, cool. Oh.. um I’m Renee.” She attempted a charming smile, hoping he couldn’t smell her hangover. “Sorry I’m not uh, decent.” She gestured to her disheveled outfit and tried in vain to smooth out the wrinkles of her oversized tee shirt. “Couldn’t really sleep, new surroundings, ya know.”

“No worries! I apologize for stopping by so early, I just wanted to drop in to introduce myself and let you know where we’re located if you need anything! I assure you that you won’t get the same customer service from Joja Mart.” He winked and Renee wasn’t sure if it made her more or less attracted to him.

“Oh don’t worry, I fucking hate Joja. Pardon the language…”

He laughed inappropriately loudly at that, his disdain for the Joja Corporation tangible. “Well I love to hear it! We of course have all your basic grocery needs and once you’re ready to get the farm up and running come and see me about seeds. Hopefully in the future we can even start supplying produce from your farm at the store!”

“Ah, right…” Renee scanned the unkempt acreage beyond the cabin. _Did more weeds grow overnight somehow?_ “It might be a while before that’ll be necessary, to be honest I have no idea what I’m doing…”

“Well I’m sure you’ll figure it out! We have some copies of this year’s farmer’s almanac at the shop and there should be some resources at the museum just outside of town. Plus I’m sure your grandfather has some books and tools stashed away somewhere around here. In the meantime come see us for anything else you need!”

“Yea, thanks. I should probably stop by later for some groceries actually...” The thought reminded Renee of how hungry she was—all she had consumed the day before was stale coffee and warm whiskey. _Nauseating._

“We’re actually closed on Wednesdays, but I’ll open up at 9 tomorrow morning! See you soon Renee!”

 _Weird day to close…_ “yep, well… nice to meet you Pierre.”

He gave her a final wave goodbye as he climbed into his canary yellow station wagon.

_The man is really committed to the retro aesthetic…_

Renee really did hate Joja and wouldn’t have betrayed Pierre or her principles by shopping there, but she had hoped to stock the kitchen to avoid a repeat of the night before. Plus cooking for herself gave her a sense of control, stability. After so many years of serving haute cuisine to bougie fucks in gentrified neighborhoods she cherished the pleasure of nourishing herself with uncomplicated food.

Today she would have to hope that there was a diner or cafe somewhere nearby. Her hunger overpowered her hangover at the moment so she hurriedly got cleaned up and ready to venture into town.

She stared at her warped reflection in the tarnished bathroom mirror, making a mental note to buy a full length one soon. She’d been blessed with clear skin for most of her adult life—thanks to good genes and a consistent skincare routine— and chose to forego makeup most days. She considered getting more dolled up than usual, on the chance that she would make more unexpected acquaintances today, but decided against it. She rubbed some sunscreen over her face, pulled her long dark hair into a messy ponytail and forced a smile. _Good enough_. She gave Frito his breakfast and a kiss on the nose before heading out the door.

Her Papa’s old work truck—a forest green ’94 S-10—was parked by the barn, still plastered in dead leaves from last fall. She made another mental note to find the keys and see if the thing still ran. But she didn’t mind walking, especially on a nice day like this. She hadn’t owned a car in the city because she didn’t really need one. Her boss had convinced her to rent a studio apartment downtown. She could barely afford it but it seemed worth it for its proximity to the restaurant. She probably could have saved up a decent amount of money if it weren’t for that damn apartment that she rarely ever spent time in.

Physically she felt like shit. But she felt light, unencumbered, almost hopeful as she walked the long dirt driveway. Like maybe she had purged the worst of the nerves and antagonistic thoughts the night before. She had no idea how long the walk to town would be but it didn’t really matter, she had nothing but time. An unfamiliar but welcome feeling.

It was early spring and the shifting of the seasons was palpable here in the valley. The cold and wet of winter clung loosely to the landscape, months of snow melting dripping and ebbing back to the rivers and sea. Renee was comforted by how nature was cyclical like this, reliably coming and going and coming again. The earth was sodden with potential. She tried to decipher her place in all of this.

She passed an old bus stop that appeared to have been out of service for some time, wild sweet pea vines creeping up an ancient looking ticket machine. Renee was curious if many tourists came through the valley. There was a certain sense of enchantment here, as if it remained untouched by modernity. It was that quality that likely brought her Papa here, his little oasis away from society.

After walking about twenty minutes in the direction Pierre had suggested would lead downtown, the dirt path was replaced with worn cobblestone and the towering oaks opened up revealing the town square. It was really charming, in a pastoral kind of way. None of the buildings appeared to be less than a century old and most of them were adorned with vines and ivy, waking up after a dormant winter. A sweet little community garden was nestled behind a few cottage style homes, new seedlings popping up in rows. Renee spotted Pierre’s Store immediately, its facade bursting with early blossoming wisteria. She was convinced everyone in the valley must have a green thumb—everyone except herself. Even the clinic had a small apple tree planted out front. _How original…_

With only a handful of businesses, it didn’t take Renee long to spot what she was searching for. A weathered sign reading “Food & Spirits” beckoned her to a battered brick building in the center of the square.

STARDROP SALOON- Est. 1918

_Hallelujah._

Walking into the Stardrop felt surreal. Renee was used to drinking at “pubs” and “taverns” in the city—mostly hip overpriced bars with unnecessarily complicated cocktails and $20 burgers—but this place was the real deal. It looked timeless, like nothing had been changed since the prohibition era when it was built. It was dimly lit, despite it being noon, but was warm and inviting. The bar itself had a personality of its own, countless tattered photos hung around the ornate carved wood that framed shelves of bottles. She seemed to be the only patron currently but could easily imagine the lively energy here on a Friday or Saturday night.

“WELL HI THERE!” A rich voice bellowed from somewhere behind the bar.

“H-hi?” She answered the faceless voice. A huge man—round in every sense of the word—emerged from what Renee assumed was the kitchen. He wore a loudly patterned bright yellow windbreaker over a cornflower blue sweater and had comically rosy cheeks. Renee thought it especially funny that he donned an exaggerated handlebar mustache—a standard look of many young mixologists in the city—though she assumed there was nothing ironic or inauthentic about this man’s style.

“You must be Randall’s granddaughter!”

“How’d you know?” She was here for less than a day and already being recognized.

“Ohh, I’m afraid there are no strangers or secrets here in Pelican Town.”

_Only a little frightening…_

“Ah well I guess that’s to be expected.” She smiled a genuine smile, something about the man put her at ease and made her feel at home.

“I’m Renee, by the way.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet ya Renee, the name’s Gus! Now please sit, make yourself comfortable! Now lemme just getcha a menu…gotta finder somewhere…” Gus shuffled through odds and ends under the register searching for a single menu. “I know I hid one somewhere ‘round here…”

“I actually was just thinking about a burger, if you’ve got it. Fries would be great too.” Just the thought of it was making Renee ravenous. She had a feeling Gus made a killer burger.

“Of course! Getcha anything to drink while ya wait?”

It was early and she was still nursing a hangover but the thought of being in a speakeasy without having at least one beer seemed like sacrilege. _In the spirit of prohibition_ …“Sure, I’ll take a pint of whatever.”

“Hair of the dog, eh?” Gus chuckled, holding his big belly.

“Is it that obvious?” She blushed.

“No no, I’m just a professional dear. Now let me get ya fixed up with that burger and you’ll really be on the road to recovery.”

She sipped her beer cautiously and listened to the sounds of Gus clamoring around in the kitchen, eventually smelling the familiar scent of hot oil, grilled onions, and Worcestershire sauce burning off on a grill. She smiled, eavesdropping on Gus’s conversation with himself. So far the people she had met here had been nothing like she expected. Eccentric but genuinely welcoming. For such a small community they seemed to have no problem taking her in. Maybe her Papa had left a good impression during his years here.

Gus returned from the kitchen a few minutes later, balancing her meal in one hand and an assortment of condiments in the other. It was the platonic ideal of the burger, executed to perfection in the way only a greasy spoon or dive bar can manage.

Between mouthfuls Renee raved about the food. “This is…legitimately…the best burger I have ever had.” Gus beamed, face glowing pink, he seemed to get compliments like this often. They chatted as she ate, he told her bits of history about the town and how the saloon had been in his family for three generations. He explained that he didn’t have any kids to inherit it when he was gone but that he’d figure that all out eventually. He told her stories about her Papa and she told him about her old job in the city, how she’d take a meal from Stardrop over all the Michelin-starred tweezer food any day. He was humble but seemed genuinely flattered by all of the praise.

“Well I guess I should head out, my dog has probably destroyed the cabin by now…what do I owe you?”

“First one’s on the house!”

“Gus, I can’t—“ but he loudly interrupted “Oh I insist!”

He’d dumped Renee’s leftover fries into a paper bag and slid it across the bar with a grin “a peace offering for the pup back home.”

All she could do was smile and thank him, feeling like she might choke up from the simple gesture. _Home_. It was starting to feel something like that…

The walk back to the farm felt dreamy. Having been resurrected by Gus’s hospitality she noticed little details that she’d missed before. Like the faint smell of ocean salt and distant sound of waves colliding with rock. The pines to the west of town and the river that seemed to run right through everything.

To her own surprise Renee hadn’t even glanced at her phone since wandering into town but she allowed herself one photo now, not to post but to cherish. She took it smiling in front of the Stardrop, camera angled upward capturing the mountains looming in the distance. A portrait of herself in her new world, feeling hopeful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Again, the vibe check:
> 
> Lovers' Carvings--Bibio  
> The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin' Groovy)--Simon and Garfunkel  
> Home and Somewhere Else--Mimicking Birds


	3. Moon Dude

In the past week Renee had turned into a total recluse. Aside from a brief and shallow call from her mom and a trip to Pierre’s for groceries she’d been entirely alone. She told herself she was fine with it, that she liked it this way, hoping to eventually believe it.

She’d been spending her mornings clearing weeds and saplings, the only productive thing she really knew how to do. It felt like real tangible progress at least. She would clear the land first and figure out how to make life spring forth from it later. _Somehow_. The physical exhaustion was a welcome side effect on otherwise sleepless nights. She’d make dinner and collapse onto the couch with her laptop and a glass of bourbon. Fatigue was an old and familiar friend.

The itch to reach for her phone and open instagram came and went, subsiding almost entirely sometimes. Then there were times when she was so desperate to know what the fuck was going on with the rest of the world that she almost caved. She knew it was masochistic to want to see, curious if Garrett had finally proposed to the new love of his life. _Doesn’t fucking matter…_

But this was a particularly stunning spring day and it felt wasteful to spend it battling weeds, so Renee indulged in the luxury of doing absolutely nothing. She lounged half asleep under her favorite tree, a sprawling oak at the south of the farm. She couldn’t recall seeing another like it anywhere else in the valley. She’d been spending her nights researching farming practices—hardiness zones, regional plant varieties, irrigation systems—it was all very overwhelming. She barely retained any of what she read, but she remembered that the tree by the pond—a live oak—shouldn’t have been able to grow there. But, inexplicably, it thrived.

She reclined on the trunk of the oak, probably at least 150 years old according to several _very_ zealous arborist forums she’d found herself in. She felt hugged by its branches as they swept the grass around her, watching bits of afternoon sunlight filter through its leaves and dance on her bare legs—it was moments like these that made her not want to look back. Or maybe it just made it easier to look ahead. Frito had spent the past hour chasing sticks in the pond nearby and was now blissfully dreaming by her side. She felt she was healing, from what exactly she wasn’t entirely sure.

Realizing she still had most of the day she decided to finally make the trek up to the mountains. She brought Frito along this time, missing their long meandering walks around the city. That path to the west of the farm had been beckoning her since she saw the neighbor drive that way a week ago—It held promise of wilderness and humanity, both things she craved.

The wind became brisk and unforgiving the further north they hiked. It was hard to believe it was almost April, the lingering chill of early morning and late afternoon still startled Renee. And it seemed winter was clinging to the mountains a bit longer than elsewhere, but the sunlight glittering through the pines created the illusion of warmth. The moss and ferns of the forest floor were a welcome green sight, harbingers of the colorful season fast approaching.

She heard the lake before seeing it, following the cadence of a small waterfall. It was almost too picturesque to be real. But there it was, an emerald pool nestled beneath the melting mountains, rippling a distorted reflection of their still snowy peaks. Before she could make it down to the water she heard the crunch of leaves and a somewhat familiar voice behind her.

“Renee?” She knew that Robin lived up here but was still shaken, the week of isolation had already made her jumpy.

“Oh! Robin, hi.” Renee suddenly felt embarrassed, like she’d been caught somewhere she wasn’t meant to be.

“It’s good to see you again! And Frito of course” Robin was grinning big, crouching to greet him, petting his squirming body. Renee admired how natural Robin looked out here, like part of the landscape. She wore an ochre sweater under a faded red and orange flannel, well-worn like her brown canvas pants, her copper hair a mirror of the quickly setting sun.

“What brings you two all the way out here?”

“Oh, well, I haven’t ventured off the farm much, was feeling a little stir crazy I guess.”

“Well hey this is perfect timing! Demetrius is getting dinner ready—I’d love if you’d join us.”

“Wow that’s…too nice of you. I really wouldn’t want to impose though, and plus I have Frito with me, he’s really intrusive…” she listed off excuses.

“Oh, he’s no problem at all. My daughter Maru is allergic but we can keep him in Seb’s room. It’s already a mess down there!”

Renee was not at all prepared for a full-blown family dinner with a neighbor she hardly knew, but she could tell Robin wasn’t willing to be turned down. And on some level, beneath the anxiety, it did sound nice. Quaint, like the kind of thing people who live in towns like this are _supposed_ to want to do. She certainly didn’t have anything else planned.

“I guess if you’re sure its no problem…”

“Of course not! The family will be so excited to meet you. My son is around your age actually…”

Her smile was soft and reassuring but there was something suggestive in it that Renee pretended not to notice. She followed Robin the short distance, recounting her brief visits to town the previous week. Robin was delighted that Renee had already been acquainted with the Stardrop.

“Gus is a great man, hell of a cook too. You really have got to go on a Friday night, almost everyone in town comes out!”

“Yea…that sounds fun” she half-lied.

They reached a clearing in the pines that opened up revealing the staggering cedar home. Robin noticed Renee’s stunned look and indulged in a self-satisfied laugh. “I suppose I should be humble…but I’m damn proud of this house.”

“You _built_ that?” Renee was genuinely awestruck. She didn’t know if she wanted to be Robin or be with her. Either way, the fact that a woman this badass chose to live in Pelican Town gave her a little hope.

“About ten years ago. Worth all the blood, sweat, and tears.” Robin beamed and Renee felt something settle inside of herself.

The garage was open when they approached the house and Renee noticed a thin figure inside tinkering with an old motorcycle. “Hey Sebby, come meet our new neighbor!” He looked a bit taken aback but slowly picked himself up and came out to meet them. He wiped his grease-stained palms on his jeans but didn’t offer a handshake.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Robin cleared her throat.

“Oh, uh, I’m Sebastian.” He afforded a polite smile, almost imperceptible.

“Renee.” She hoped her casual smile and nod was enough to mask how awkward she felt.

“Cool.”

She felt like a child, hands deep in her pockets, rocking on her heels, all too aware of Robin attentively overseeing the introduction. Sebastian’s eyes lit up when he noticed Frito. He glanced at Renee, “can I…?”

“Oh, yea, of course! This is Frito.” Sebastian’s nonchalant demeanor melted away, replaced with childlike excitement as he hugged Frito’s wriggling body and let him plant sloppy kisses on his face. _Adorable…_ Renee noticed the bike he’d been working on.

“Woah, is that a Triumph?”

He seemed startled by the question. “Yea…do you ride?”

“I wish. I’ve wanted a Scrambler for as long as I can remember, I just don’t know if I’d ever be brave enough to actually ride it. What’s that, a Bonneville?”

“Yep, 1970.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Still needs a lot of work but I guess that’s half the fun.” He smirked and Renee noticed the dimples. _Adorable…_ Robin interrupted before her gaze could meander to the rest of him.

“We can talk shop inside, Sebby will you get cleaned up for dinner?”

“I’m not really hungry…”

“ _Sebastian…_ ” she threatened.

“Oh…right.” He glanced at Renee, face pink from the scolding. She had to stifle a laugh, it just all felt very high school.

The inside of their home looked pretty much as Renee expected—inviting and distinctly warm—not unlike the woman who built it. The walls were sparsely decorated aside from a handful of family photos and sweetly framed finger-paintings, its charm mainly in the actual design and carpentry. It was clearly built with care and perfectly lived in.

Renee was surprised at how at ease she felt through dinner. They were a laid back family and seemed to genuinely enjoy each other’s company. Robin’s husband Demetrius and their daughter Maru teased each other mercilessly about some scientific something. Renee didn’t get any of the jokes but it was endearing to watch them banter and she couldn’t help but notice the adoration in Robin’s eyes. Renee wasn’t sure if she ever felt this with her own family. It was a sour feeling, but the love here was tangible and it felt nice even from the periphery. And they were kind enough to not pry into her reasons for leaving the city, discretion she greatly appreciated.

Demetrius explained which parts of the meal had been foraged from around the valley and how the beer they were drinking was brewed with wild yeast from pinecones found in the front yard. Sebastian seemed annoyed by his step-dad’s passion for the valley’s bounty but Renee was trying to learn as much as she could. She might not be able to grow food but surely she could _find_ it.

She wondered if her life would ever look anything like this, if someday she’d be the hospitable farmer offering beautiful meals to near strangers. Thinking so far into the future, imagining herself still here in the valley then, sat strange in her stomach. Robin seemed so happy, content with her life in the mountains with her family. Recently Renee had nightmares of dying alone on the farm like her grandfather had. He’d at least had a wife, kids, grandkids. She’d never envisioned any of that for herself—too caught up in work and worrying about whether or not Garrett regretted every minute of their time together—but imagining a future without a family of her own was beyond sad. She took a harder look at Sebastian, wondering if maybe…

Renee hadn’t really noticed earlier, or maybe she wasn’t willing to, but there _was_ something about him. He had his mom’s pretty face and ivory skin but his hair was so black it was almost blue, a shaggy cut that fell across his forehead. He was one bad haircut away from looking like a Hot Topic emo kid, but he was pulling it off. Beautifully androgynous, his angular features were offset by a certain softness and sensuality. He had a quiet confidence, a darkness that she had at first written off as angst but now she wasn’t sure. She was intrigued.

It was still pretty early when they finished dinner and Renee tried to figure out an exit strategy before getting roped into family board games or something even more painstaking. “Well I guess I should head back home before it gets too late…”

“There’s no way I’m letting you walk back home in the dark! Sebby can drive you home.” Robin had that sly smile again and Renee felt a flush up her neck.

“That’s really okay, it honestly didn’t even take that long to walk here.” she lied.

“It’s fine.” Sebastian was already pulling on a hoodie and getting ready to leave. “Trust me, you don’t want to make that walk in the dark.”

For whatever reason she did trust him and so, defeated, she thanked Robin and Demetrius profusely for everything while Sebastian retrieved Frito from his basement bedroom and then followed him out to Robin’s truck. Even with the lights from the house bleeding out onto the driveway it was frighteningly dark.

“Really, thanks for doing this.”

She smiled but Sebastian was busy rolling a cigarette and just shrugged “I’ve got nothing else going on.”

The ride home should have felt awkward, but it didn’t. A comfortable silence lingered between them, just the loud hum of the engine under the dreamy music he was playing through one of those old school cassette adapters. It was some gothy darkwave band, the singer had a haunting, hypnotizing voice. The headlights washed softly over the dirt road but Renee was watching the moon—half-faded and barely there—chasing them back to the farm. Her sleepy thoughts dissolved into memories, both good and bad. Someone new was behind the wheel but the feeling of being driven home was the same. She tried to think of something to say but nothing felt as significant as the silence.

She felt a twinge of disappointment when the truck slowed and the sight of the farm spilled out in front of them. Sebastian hadn’t been particularly friendly, yet Renee felt comforted by his presence. Maybe she was just that fucking lonely.

He helped her get Frito out of the back of the truck and they watched his lanky body sprint out of sight. She tried to figure out how to say goodnight when Sebastian finally broke the silence.

“You wanna smoke this joint? Or just…do you mind if I smoke?”

She hadn’t smoked in months but she was ready to feel anything but sober. “Totally.”

“Cool. I have to hide this shit from my mom, it's so annoying.” He lit it and took a deep drag before passing it to Renee. “They drink beer made out of _pinecones_ but me smoking a plant is inconceivable. Ridiculous…” It was the most he had spoken all night. “Anyway... what made you move out here?” his eyes were focused out on the farm, seemed to be searching for Frito.

_Here we go…_

“Well my grandfather died…” She slumped down, landing on the top step of the porch.

“Oh…right…I’m sorry.” He kicked at the dirt nervously before sitting next to her. She could smell his shampoo.

“No, it's fine. I guess it kind of just gave me a chance to realize how fucked I felt? Just like stuck you know…” she didn’t know why she was being so honest or why she didn’t really care. Maybe the weed, or the fact that he was a complete stranger and none of this felt real anyway.

“Yea, I know the feeling. Believe it or not living with my mom into my twenties wasn’t the plan.” He laughed for the first time all night.

“So what makes you stay?”

He wasn’t expecting the question and seemed to be really working out the answer, gazing out into the darkness, searching. A grin crept over his face, dimples and all, “I don’t even fucking know.” and he laughed again. She thought of how she liked the sound, it was kind of shy and quiet, like he was embarrassed to do it. “I don’t know. My best friend Sam still lives here and I guess I just always thought we’d get out of this shit hole together.” Another puff and a pass.

“It doesn’t really seem like a shit hole…”

“I’ve lived here my _entire_ life. Like yea the scenery is nice, it’s just so suffocating.”

“Yea, I get that. I guess that’s how my hometown was. I just got out before I could really start to hate it.” The memories of Garrett were rising up, just below the surface, determined to drown her. _Not tonight…_

“So does it get like super creepy out here alone?” He flicked the cashed joint into the night and was eyeing the cabin.

“I mean I try not to think about it, but I guess so. Lots of noises.”

“I bet…” he shivered but she figured it was because it had gotten pretty chilly now that the sun had been gone for hours. She considered suggesting building a fire down by the pond but didn’t want to seem desperate.

She’d downplayed how spooked she got out here at night. She was used to the sound of the city, the constant thrum of cars and sirens and people living their lives. It was this deafening rural silence, peppered with unidentifiable sounds, that was downright fucking terrifying. She was not looking forward to another night of it, especially now that she was stoned. “Do you wanna come in for a beer or something?”

“I should probably head home actually, my mom will start assuming things…” He rolled his eyes and tossed his hair out of his face. Renee noticed his shampoo again—it was such a familiar smell but she couldn’t place it.

“Ah, right.” She laughed, hoping to hide her disappointment.

“But hey, you should come to the Stardrop on Friday night. Me and Sam always go and play pool but you can like meet some of the other townie losers too, if you want…”

“Yea I mean your mom already invited me so I’ll probably be busy chilling with her, but maybe I’ll see you.” She couldn’t help but smile, the thought of being at a bar drinking with other human people—townie losers or otherwise—was sounding very nice.

He shook his head and laughed, “whatever dude. I’ll see you there.”

She tried not to watch the truck pull away as she called Frito back to the cabin, hoping Sebastian couldn't see her stoned to the bone and smiling like a fool. _Maybe I'll have at least one friend in this shit hole..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This is so out of my normal wheelhouse and has been really fun to work on. Dreaming of spring in the mountains and soft goth bois (and sexysweet doctors ;) ) is keeping the February blues (mostly) at bay :)
> 
> some songs for the vibes
> 
> Mother Big River- Jessica Pratt  
> Ragged Wood- Fleet Foxes  
> False Moon- Them Are Us Too (this is what I imagine Sebastian playing in the truck, its so fucking pretty)  
> Hi-Five- Angel Olsen


	4. Drunk and With Dreams

The enthusiasm Renee had felt for her first Friday night at the Stardrop all but evaporated when faced with its reality. She had floated through the two days since meeting Sebastian, oscillating between excitement and dread. She’d stayed strong on her social media ban, for better or worse, despite being _very_ tempted to find Sebastian online. He seemed even more enigmatic now that she’d had time to replay their encounter over and over in her head. Soft and sharp all at once.

Choosing an outfit was the hardest part. This was essentially her debut, her townie Debutante, and as usual she felt the pressure to be perfect. Or at least _appear_ that way. She got a little comfort knowing that she would at least know Sebastian. And Robin and Demetrius would surely take her in if things got truly dire. She tried to imagine what Sebastian’s friend Sam would be like. What was the likelihood of there being not one but _two_ goth boys in this tiny town?

She finally decided on the outfit she almost always ended up choosing—black jeans with a black t-shirt and a black denim jacket. Her hair was mercifully doing a nice wavy thing today so she decided to leave it alone, forgoing the usual ponytail. She was still unlearning things from being in a kitchen 70 hours a week. Taking one final look in the bathroom mirror, she actually felt pretty good. The week of farm work shone on her skin.

She hadn’t planned on walking. After finally finding the keys to her Papa’s old work truck in a kitchen drawer the day before she’d tried to start it but the engine just clicked without ever turning over. Thankfully the path to town was pretty straightforward but wandering home after some drinks could prove to be interesting.

It was already twilight when she left the farm, following deep purple clouds rimmed in gold, fuchsia, and fiery orange. She watched the day end in the half hour it took for dirt to turn to cobblestone.The air was growing heavy and it smelled like rain, but the chill of the evening was energizing. When she was close enough to read the sign she heard the unmistakeable noise of a bar brought to life. She gave herself one final pep talk before swinging open the heavy door of the Stardrop, greeted by a rush of warmth from within.

It felt more familiar than it should have considering it was only her second visit, but the nerves crept back as she took in the room, almost unrecognizable now that there were bodies in it. The volume of the jukebox was noticeable and the sound of glass to table chimed from seemingly everywhere. Her heart sank when she noticed the pool tables were unattended, having to rethink her plan. The seats at the bar were, thankfully,mostly empty. She would ease into this, it’d be fine. She ignored a few curious pairs of eyes as she headed to the bar.

Gus greeted her as if she was an old buddy from way back.

“Renee! What took you so long to come back!”

 _Bless him_. She didn’t even mind how loud he was shouting, it just felt good to be recognized. He slid her a beer and she surveyed the scene. The only person near her at the bar was a scruffy looking guy, probably in his early 30s. He wore a Joja hoodie and that should have been enough of a red flag but Renee was determined to get the Pelican Town experience tonight. _Just rip the bandaid off._ She took a big sip of beer and nodded toward him.

“Hey…I’m Renee.”

He glanced up from his beer looking confused and vaguely disgusted.

“…Why are you talking to me?”

She had dealt with her fair share of drunken assholes at bars and entitled line cooks who resented working for a female chef. But this? When she was just trying to be polite? She saw red.

“Excuse me? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

He just rolled his eyes and walked away, infuriating her even more. She snapped her head back to the bar to see if anyone else had witnessed. A man had sat down at the corner of the bar sometime during the exchange.

“I’d say you handled that pretty well, all things considered.” The stranger commented, noticing her exasperation.

“Is that supposed to be funny?” She snapped, still fuming.

He chuckled, “Not at all. Shane puts up a hard front to people he doesn’t know. Oddly enough aggression seems to earn his respect. I’m sure he’ll come around.” The man nodded at Gus as he passed him a glass of red wine from behind the bar.

“ _What_ is with that guy?”

“I have my theories.” He pushed his glasses up his nose, smiled softly and reached out his hand “I’m Harvey, by the way.”

She shook his hand, still flustered but trying to forget about the asshole in the Joja hoodie. _Shane…_ She brought her attention back to this friendly—and quite handsome—stranger.

He had kind, smiling eyes behind his 1950’s styled horn-rimmed glasses. The lenses were misty , she assumed it must have started to drizzle soon after she arrived. His hair was the color of coffee—like it was probably reddish in the right light—but right now it was dark and dewy with rain, soft waves pushed loosely over to one side. He wore a crisp white button up with a thin burgundy tie, a moss green jacket folded neatly over the back of his barstool. The whole ensemble had a James Dean vibe, with the unlikely addition of a Tom Selleck chevron mustache. He pulled it off almost as well as Tom had, which was _quite_ the feat. She couldn’t really place his age, the old-fashioned overtones made it difficult to guess.He looked like he was probably in his mid-thirties but could have been older.

Before Renee could get to know more Robin found her at the bar.

“Oh I’m so glad you came out! And I see you’ve met Dr. Harvey?” Robin had a way of making everything sound more presumptuous than she probably intended. She had a strong maternal energy, well-meaning but accidentally embarrassing.

“Well, technically I never actually got your name.” Harvey added timidly.

“Oh, right…” Was she blushing? “Renee.” She remembered how his handshake had felt, long fingers, gentle but firm.

“It’s nice to meet you, Renee.” He smiled softly.

“Well now that you’ve met, I hope you don’t mind if I steal you away to introduce you to some other folks?”

“Oh…yea. Of course.” Renee braced herself, trying to appear calm and confident but shriveling on the inside. Harvey gave her an almost apologetic smile before Robin led her away.

She felt like a little kid following her mother around a grown-up party as Robin paraded her around the bar. It was nice though, much easier than approaching strangers on her own, and it certainly expedited the whole process of introductions. Her neighbor to the south, Marnie, coincidentally turned out to be the Joja asshole’s aunt. Renee found it hard to believe—Marnie seemed like a lovely woman.

She met several other characters before the parade made its final stop at the pool tables where Sebastian and presumably Sam had just started a game. “You guys have fun!” Robin called out before heading back to the booth where Demetrius had been dutifully waiting.

It was unprecedentedly awkward, having been hand delivered to Sebastian by his mom, but discomfort seemed to be the theme of the night.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Sorry about my mom…that looked brutal.”

“Yea, it was…a lot. But I’m glad it’s out of the way, even though I don’t remember half of those people’s names.”

“Umm…hi!” Sebastian’s friend had been excitedly watching the conversation.

“Oh yea, this is my idiot friend Sam.”

“I’m his _best_ idiot friend.” Sam beamed.

Sebastian just rolled his eyes and cued up to make a shot.

“Hey, I’m Renee. I’ve heard a lot about you.” She smiled sweetly, knowing it wasn’t necessarily true but sensing he’d be happy to hear it.

“ _Awww_ , _Seb.”_ Sam squeezed Sebastian into a side hug, squishing their faces together while Sebastian glared at Renee, face deadpan.

“Calm down, literally all I said is that we were friends.”

“He’s so sweet, isn’t he?” Sam asked, still squeezing Sebastian’s shoulder as his friend tried to shake out of the embrace. She couldn’t help but laugh at the childish antics, their dynamic was entirely different than she’d expected. Sam was straight up goofy. And _hot._ He had the kind of messy blonde hair and effortless good looks that only skater and surfer dudes seemed to have, the kind that survive on pizza and soda but are still inexplicably ripped. Sebastian freed himself from Sam’s hug and was refocused on the pool game.

“I’m about to kick Sam’s ass, again. You wanna play winner?”

“Sure. I’ll warn you though…I was kind of a pool shark in college.” She teased but it was true, many freshman nights spent avoiding classwork at the campus pub.

He smirked “We’ll see.”

She went to grab a round of beers and overheard Sam whisper loudly when he thought she was out of earshot.“Dude she seems chill!” It felt nice, being around them was easy.

The nerves returned as she approached the bar, the handsome doctor was still at the the corner seat, reading a book that looked tedious. She tried to think of something charming to say but came up short.

“Exciting Friday night?”

He smiled up at her from his book, face and lips slightly flush from the wine. “As exciting as they get. Good to see you survived the introduction tour.”

“Thanks, it actually wasn’t as bad as I expected. Everyone seems really nice actually, all downhill after Shane…” They shared a nervous laugh.

“Well I’m glad to hear it. I think most of us are excited to have a fresh face in town.” She noticed the thin lines around his eyes, thinking he must smile a lot. But there was also a sadness in them that she hadn’t noticed before.

Gus passed her the three beers she’d ordered and she struggled for something to say “Well…”

She thought she saw him glance toward the pool tables. “Have a fun night Renee.”

“Yea…you too” she tried to reciprocate the warmth in his smile.

Back at the pool tables Sebastian was beating Sam _badly_ , as promised. But it didn’t seem to bother Sam a bit. Renee slipped onto the big blue couch in the corner with her beer and watched them finish out the game, just observing. Sam told stupid jokes and Sebastian habitually rolled his eyes. There was a tenderness there though, almost imperceptible, just little hints. Sebastian’s face was softer around him. She noticed him stealing glances as Sam lined up a shot, eyes lingering on the place where Sam’s oversized ratty t-shirt hung below his collarbone. 

She found herself stealing glances of her own, across the room to the corner of the bar where the doctor still sat alone with his book. Watching the easy way he joked with Gus and how he’d periodically brush the loose curls from his forehead. She barely noticed she was doing it until one time she caught him looking at her too.

After several beers she was feeling rosy. The boys reminded her of her college friends, they were just fun. It was all jokes and banter but they made her feel familiar—it was easy to forget she barely knew them when they knew each other so well. Sebastian had demanded a rematch after their first game, but Renee was winning this one too and was buzzing—until a familiar melancholy voice from the jukebox filled the loud room and stole her attention. It was Lonely Wine, one of her favorites by Roy Orbison, and it was bittersweet hearing it there. Distant memories floated in and out. Renee glanced at the bar and was annoyed by how disappointed she felt to find that Harvey was gone.

“Uh..I’ll be right back. Sam you can play for me.”

“Sick! I might actually win a game!”

She went back to the bar to find out from Gus who had played the song. At that point she was drunk enough to not be concerned with how peculiar or desperate the request might seem.

“Well I believe I saw Dr. Harvey play something from the jukebox before heading home.”

“He picked a song right before leaving? That’s kind of strange…” She found it kind of sweet, too.

Gus shrugged. “The doctor’s an old-fashioned fellow, he’s always playing sad old songs on that jukebox. I reckon he’s awfully lonely.”

Gus’s eyes told her that he could sympathize and her heart hurt for the both of them.

* * *

It had gotten pretty late when Renee remembered the half hour walk home. She recalled the heavy clouds and the rain in Harvey’s hair and her dread deepened. To her relief—and surprise—Sebastian offered to join her.

“My mom will literally kill me if I don’t walk you home.” He started rolling a cigarette as soon as they left the bar, greeted by the sharp chill of the March night but thankfully no rain.

“How chivalrous.” She teased.

They parted ways with Sam and he called back after them “you guys be _safe_!” Sebastian just flipped him off and lit his cigarette and Renee was drunk enough to not be bothered.

“Sorry, he’s so immature…”

“I don’t mind.” She smiled reassuringly, not sure if he noticed. “Really, tonight was fun.”

He offered his cigarette, which turned out to be a spliff. She knew mixing alcohol and weed was historically bad news but took it anyway.

“Well I’m glad you don’t completely hate it here. Yet.” It was mostly dark but in the thin sliver of moonlight she thought she saw him smile.

They walked like this for awhile, mostly silent and passing the spliff back and forth. She checked the night for stars but just found dense clouds and a sobering cold that mercifully kept her from fading too far. The chill and the smell of wet earth underfoot reminded Renee of the long mountain path Sebastian would have to walk to get home.

“So wait…are you planning to walk back home after this? Because that’s insane.”

“Oh…I guess I didn’t really consider that.” He looked uneasy.

“I mean, you can stay at my place…” she didn’t want to sound too forward, “The couch is actually pretty comfortable.” The last thing she needed was a one night stand with basically her only friend in this town. Not that he would even want that, she wasn’t entirely convinced Sebastian even swung her particular way.

“Yea that uh…would be really nice actually. Only if that’s not weird for you. I normally just crash at Sam’s, I promise this wasn’t like a scheme or something…”

“I don’t think that. Seriously, its fine.”

“Okay…cool…” he still seemed unsure so she tried to change the subject.

“So…what’s the deal with you and Sam?”

He responded quickly, almost defensively. “What do you mean? We’re friends.”

“I mean yea obviously, just curious what the backstory is there. You two are just really different.”

“Oh.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, we’ve been best friends since kindergarten. Typical small town shit.”

“That’s pretty cute…”

“Not really.”

She decided to back off of the topic but couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else there. He reminded her of the pretty bi guys she liked to get drunk and kiss at parties in college. She tried to forget the similarities and the way the moonlight landed on his jawline. 

They finally reached the farmhouse and having someone new there made it feel like a homecoming. The usual daunting, suffocating feeling eased. Frito and Sebastian were equally excited to see each other and it just all felt effortless.

Sebastian found the local access sci-fi channel that was playing a Godzilla marathon and they sat on the couch with Frito in their laps drinking beer, half paying attention to the absurd film while they talked. She felt herself fading, a little dizzy from the weed and alcohol. She drifted in and out of consciousness, the sounds of the movie blended with the sound of the song from the bar that was stuck in her head. It had been playing in the background of her mind all night, along with thoughts of warm handshakes and neckties and sad eyes behind dewey glasses . The way the doctor's low voice sounded saying her name… She finally succumbed to a heavy dream-filled sleep.

* * *

_Where ever you may be, I'll still be true_

_And when the clouds roll by I'll come to you_

_But until then I'll drink my lonely wine…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The combination of pandemic and being trapped in a snowstorm is not doing great things for my mental health! So here is my escapism at work lol. And sorry to all the Shane stans, I simply do not get it!!
> 
> some songs:
> 
> Dreaming-Say Sue Me  
> Lonely Wine-Roy Orbison  
> Dreams Tonite-Alvvays


	5. Avant Gardener

Renee awoke on the couch as abruptly as she had fallen asleep. Blurry eyed and inexplicably cocooned in the quilt from the bed, she tried to piece together the previous night. She hadn’t blacked out, it was just hazy. Still in her jeans and t-shirt from the bar, neck _aching,_ Sebastian and Frito were asleep in a pile on the floor wrapped tightly in a throw from the couch. A pang of guilt. The sound of her shifting must have woken him, a mess of black hair peeked out of the blanket “oh…hey” he blinked awake.

“Morning.” She rasped, immediately regretting the nicotine from the night before.“Why are you on the floor?” She was still fuzzy on the details.

“You fell asleep during the movie, and I didn’t want you to wake up with me on the couch with you and be freaked out or something.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry…you should have like…woken me up or kicked me off or something.” Her mouth tasted sour and she felt the headache coming. It was bright out, the sun was high enough to feel its warmth in the cabin.

“Actually I tried to wake you up but you were pretty passed out.”

_Fucking embarrassing…_

“I wouldn’t have been freaked out, but…that’s actually nice of you to think about.”

“Are you surprised that I’m like…decent?” He smiled a sleepy dimpled smile, hugging his knees into his chest.

“No, I just feel like an asshole. Let me cook you breakfast at least?”

“I’m actually not big on breakfast…”

“What does that even mean? Everyone likes breakfast.” She’d managed to get herself off the couch and was searching through a pile of what she hoped were clean clothes.

“Yea, so I hear. I just don’t really like eggs…” He’d risen and was mirroring Frito’s morning stretches on the small rug in front of the fireplace.

“That’s super weird, but whatever. No eggs. Surely you like hash browns? If you don’t like fried potatoes then you can get the hell out of my house right now.”

“Okay yea, I like hash browns.” His quiet laugh was becoming more common, a realization she delighted in. 

She put on a pot of coffee and after changing clothes and washing her face felt something close to normal. While waiting for the potatoes to boil they watched Frito from the porch steps and soaked in what was left of the morning, sipping coffee as Sebastian smoked his first cigarette. He’d shed his sweatshirt and was in a white tee that had been cropped at the bottom. The sleeves fell high on his arm revealing a thin black tattoo on the inside of his bicep. The outline of a hand, palm open and fingers outstretched, reaching toward a crescent moon. It was the first time Renee noticed that he wore a thin silver chain necklace, highlighting his pronounced Adam’s apple.

“What’s up with the truck?” Sebastian nodded toward the old Chevy. 

“I’m not sure, it just won’t start.”

“I can take a look at it for you, if you want. Could check out that tractor too.” She’d almost forgotten about the broken down and ancient looking tractor parked behind the barn. “I’m a country boy after all.” He said with an exaggerated twang and a grin. It was cute, she hoped he didn’t notice her noticing the thin muscles of his arm as he lifted the cigarette to his lips.

“Yea, that’d be really great actually. Just whenever you’re free, no rush or anything.”

“I could come by later honestly, just gotta run home for a sec.”

“Oh, yea, only if you’re sure you have the time?”

“Totally.” He put his cigarette out in the empty beer bottle they’d used the night before as an ashtray. “I just finished up a big work project so honestly I’d be bored anyway. As long as you’re free…”

“Almost always.” She laughed but knew this wasn’t sustainable and would have to figure out a source of income soon. “So what do you do actually? I just realized I never really asked…”

“Oh, uh, freelance programming.” Renee just nodded, not entirely sure what that entailed. He seemed to notice.

“Basically people hire me to build websites and apps and shit. It’s chill, I can work from anywhere really. A lot better than working in an office or something. Can’t even imagine…”

It was setting in how little she knew about Sebastian, how she hadn’t even bothered to ask. So far he seemed like a misanthrope, it felt significant that he was there willingly—offering help, staying for breakfast. She really wanted to know him.

He was actually almost talkative during breakfast, after a little questioning. “I have friends other than Sam you know. People more similar to me I guess.”

“Like real or online?” It came out sounding condescending and she regretted asking.

“I’ve been out of Stardew before, believe it or not.” He smirked, not seeming as offended as she thought he might. “I go to conferences, and shows in Zuzu pretty regularly. I’m not completely cultureless.”

“I didn’t mean for it to sound like that…”

“Its fine. But online _is_ real, by the way. You could argue the internet is becoming the primary world. Speaking of, I couldn’t help but notice you don’t have any profiles.” He sipped his coffee and watched her through thin eyes.

“So you’ve been stalking me?”

“Uh, yea. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t hanging out with a psychopath. Or like, a sorority girl.”

“I sincerely hope that it's obvious by now that I'm neither. But yea, I deactivated everything before I moved…just felt like it was getting really unhealthy.” She stared at her plate pushing a stray hash brown around aimlessly.

“That’s fair, the apps are kind of built to be that way.”

“Guess you’ll just have to get to know me the old fashioned way” she grinned.

Renee expected an eye roll but Sebastian watched her with a calm intensity, leaning back in his chair.

“I’d like to.”

Warmth bloomed under her skin but thankfully he didn’t linger in the moment, instead walking his plate to the sink. “I should head home but I can come back in a few hours to check out the truck if you still want?”

“Yea, thanks. I wish I could give you a ride but, you know…”

“Why do you think I offered to fix it?” He smirked pulling on his hoodie and Renee’s eyes briefly roamed the exposed skin of his narrow hips. “Thanks for breakfast by the way, and letting me crash.”

“Anytime...” She smiled but then cringed at how flirty it seemed.

* * *

After Sebastian left she felt aimless, reminded that she didn’t have anywhere to be or anything she really needed to do. It was something she was still getting used to. Her grandmother had always said something about idle hands being the devil’s tools, and Renee figured this was probably the exact kind of thing she’d been talking about as she found herself in the shower with her hand between her legs thinking about a certain black haired boy. She really truly only wanted to be friends and knew that fucking herself to his memory wouldn’t make that any easier. Her subconscious offered up another option, a tall doctor with pretty hair and nice lips. When that felt equally inappropriate she gave up altogether.

The hours passed slowly. She tried cleaning random things around the cabin, spending a bit too much time getting ready, and finally making a batch of cookie dough to stash in the freezer. It reminded her how much she enjoyed baking. She’d gotten her start in kitchens in pastry but eventually worked her way up the ranks to executive chef since it was a more “respected”—and male dominated—position. It felt nice to flex the old muscle, if only for her own enjoyment.

She was sprawled on the bed with one of her old baking journals when there was finally a soft knock at the door. She rushed to the bathroom for one final glance in the mirror before realizing how ridiculous that was. _Don't make it weird..._

“Welcome back” she conjured her best interpretation of nonchalance. 

“Thanks.” Sebastian wore a lopsided grin and a long sleeve black band shirt pushed up to his elbows, hair wet from a shower but a little sweat on his brow. He brushed the hair from his forehead and Renee noticed his shampoo again, stomach clenching from the sudden realization that it was the same generic brand that Garrett had used. She drifted inward with the memory, still standing in the doorway but mind entirely elsewhere.

“So…uh…I guess I’ll get the keys and go check out the truck then?”

“Oh, right…” she was glassy eyed.

“You good?” The concern in his gaze lifted her out of the fog and she mustered a reassuring smile.

“Yea, sorry, kinda zoned out for a second.”

“Okay, weirdo” he playfully nudged her shoulder as he walked past into the cabin. “It looks good in here.”

“Thanks. I finally got bored enough to clean. Might even work on the garden a little today.” Renee had made little headway on her half-baked plan to have garden beds ready for the strawberry plants Pierre promised he’d have soon.

“Yea? I guess its a pretty nice day for it. I could maybe give you a hand after I figure out what’s wrong with the truck.”

She watched him suspiciously. “Why are you being so nice?”

He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I dunno, guess I’m pretty fucking bored too.”

* * *

Sebastian had been lost in the engine of the truck for about an hour and Renee had managed to dig up about ten whole square feet of packed earth when she heard him laughing behind her.

“What!?”

“Nothing, its just…cute.”

“Oh fuck off.” She playfully kicked some of the loose dirt toward him but he dodged it, grinning.

“Well good news, I think you might just need a new battery. There’s some other minor issues but that should at least get it running. And I’m pretty confident I can get the tractor working too. So uh…this—“ he gestured at Renee, sweaty and disheveled—“shouldn’t really be necessary.”

“Oh, shit, _thank you_. And I guess sorry for telling you to fuck off and kicking dirt at you…”

“I probably deserved it” he shrugged. “Oh and Sam called, he wants to hang out. Would you wanna maybe chill here and watch a movie or something? Not to like…invite myself but—"

“Totally!” She interrupted, a little more quickly and enthusiastically than she’d wished to. She’d had fun with them the night before and was excited to be included again. She was a little less nervous around Sebastian with Sam around.

“Cool, I’ll tell him to bring beer.”

* * *

“Woah, nice ink!” The cabin was warm from the sunny day and Renee had changed into a tank top after her second shower of the afternoon.

Sebastian massaged his temples. “Dude…don’t call it ink. That’s _so_ lame.”

“Oh I’m sorry, am I embarrassing you?” Sam just grinned—unfazed—and tossed Sebastian and Renee each a beer.

She chimed in “Its true…ink is pretty cringe. But uh, thanks.”

“Yours are way cooler than Seb’s. I like the colors.” Her arms were sleeved in traditional style tattoos she’d collected over the years. Bold black outlines and bright primary colors—the product of countless hours and thousands of dollars spent at shops in Zuzu.

She took a swig of beer. “I noticed the one on your arm…what else do you have?” Sebastian was focused on rolling a joint.

“Just some other line drawings on my chest, shit I thought looked cool. Nothing significant really.”

“That’s the trick,” she grinned “If they don’t mean anything you’re less likely to regret them.”

“Exactly.”

The three of them packed onto the couch passing the joint and eating the pizza Sam had brought from the Stardrop as Frito sighed himself to sleep on the rug. They half-heartedly watched a shitty slasher film about a severed and deformed conjoined twin kept in a basket and hellbent on revenge. It was absurd and funny and they got stoned and a little drunk and it just felt nice. Renee liked the feeling of having them at the cabin, it was oddly familiar and a little adolescent but comforting and sweet.

Sebastian sat in the middle and periodically his elbow or knee would brush against hers but it didn’t feel strange, they melted into it. Sam was really affectionate toward Sebastian, always nudging his arm or mussing his hair. Their dynamic was fun to watch, so different than most of her guy friends back home.

* * *

“Okay, never have I ever…had a threesome.” Sam waited excitedly and Renee finally took a drink. “ _Damn! Alright!”_

“C’mon, I went to a liberal arts school, it’s basically a rite of passage.”

Sebastian watched her carefully, thinking of the next prompt. “Never have I ever…hooked up with a married person.” Renee took a deep breath, sighed, and drank again.

Sam once again lost his mind. “ _Duuuude!”_

“It was complicated okay!” She defended. “And how would you even have guessed that? I hate this game.” She went ahead and finished her beer, defeated.

Sebastian was smug. "The liberal arts experience, right?" he ruffled her hair and she slapped his hand away in feigned indignation. "If it makes you feel any better, I've tried before but was _harshly_ rejected. Made a fucking fool out of myself."

"WHAT!" Apparently this was news to Sam. "Who? When? Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was at a conference awhile ago...and I didn't tell you cause it was really fucking embarrassing."

"A couple of fucking home wreckers..." Sam shook his head incredulously. 

"Like I said, it was not a success."

"In my defense, the guy I was hooking up with lied about being in an open relationship," she added. 

"Oooh, yikes."

"Damn, that's fucked."

“Yep! _Anyways_...since we’re all being so honest apparently…there's something I've been wanting to ask you..." Renee was turned toward Sebastian and Sam was finally silent, tight-lipped and wide-eyed.

"Okay..." 

"Can you do me a favor and uh… it's weird but…could you change shampoos?” She blurted it out, filter entirely gone, painfully aware of how random it seemed.

“Uh…care to explain?” he asked cautiously.

“It’s…it’s the same one my ex used and it’s been _fucking_ with me.” She regretted it instantly, realizing just how drunk she was. They'd talked about a lot of things tonight but this was too pathetic, too weird.

“Oh." he sounded relieved. "Yea, no problem. I’m not like attached to the shampoo or anything.” He said it so casually and seemed to be willing to leave it at that.

“Thanks…” she was grateful and a bit taken aback by the way he seemed to take everything in stride, never judging.

"Damnit I thought you guys were gonna kiss or something!" 

Sebastian slapped the back of Sam's head. "Dude grow up." 

“Oh! I just remembered I made cookie dough earlier.” They were two joints and countless beers into the night and freshly baked cookies sounded like the cherry on top. Renee headed to the kitchen and Sam stretched out completely almost knocking Sebastian off of the couch. “My body is ready!”

One episode of The Twilight Zone later, the cabin smelled heavenly and they were piled onto the couch again eating cookies.

“Dude I’m not even lying, this is the best chocolate chip cookie I’ve ever had.” Sam gushed.

“You’re just stoned.” She was never great at taking compliments.

“No…” Sebastian had been musing but spoke up. “These are _really_ fucking good.”

“Seb’s so picky, I’m telling you, these are legit. Like you should sell these.”

“I dunno…I’m not really a baker. They are pretty fucking good though aren’t they…”

“So much better than Evelyn’s dude…” she didn’t know who Evelyn was but it felt good to hearSeb say it either way. And it wasn’t much but it planted a seed in Renee’s mind that she hoped to not forget about. She knew of bakers in the city who sold to locals and at farmers’ markets, it could be _something_.

It had gotten really late and they were all so sleepy. She offered the couch and they didn’t hesitate to accept it. She found a spare blanket and tossed it over them, bodies already entangled from opposite ends of the couch.

Renee went to bed thinking of a lot of things. The brief moments of Sebastian's skin grazing over hers...the way she already felt like she could tell him and Sam anything...the way that their sleepy bodies looked curled up on the couch together, not afraid to touch...what they’d said about selling cookies...She drifted to sleep feeling hopeful for the first time in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vibey songs that I love...
> 
> Avant Gardener- Courtney Barnett  
> Alligator- The Babies  
> Shy- Hether  
> 


End file.
